Sensory Perception
by Wren Maxwell
Summary: After that night she would always know it was him.


AN: Written as an 'I miss you guys" for my peeps on LJ. Hope everyone had a good St. Patty's!

Read and review please! ^_^

Sensory Perception

After that night she would always know it was him.

S&CS&CS&CS&CS&CS&CS&C... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... S&CS&CS&CS&CS&CS&CS&C

She was slogging through the jungle on her way back to Terra Nova when her torch went out. Since she had tripped and let it drop in the stream she supposed it was her fault, but she'd rather blame the fates for leaving her standing in the middle of nowhere, torchless during a new moon, surrounded by dense jungle that cut off all other viable light sources, when the predators were getting ready to come out for the night.

The loss of the torch would be a welcome relief from the stifling, humid heat under other circumstances. It was oppressive and she could feel the sweat trickling down her back while she stood in the dark for a minute, trying to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light.

When that didn't happen she switched to using her ears, the distinct *snap* as she unholstered her sonic seeming incredibly loud in comparison to the normal night noises around her. She could hear the foliage move in the light breeze that was fanning through the treetops (how she wished she could feel it), the distant scrabbling sounds of tiny creatures moving high above her and the faintest rustling of something moving up behind her.

She carefully spun, aiming her gun in the direction she thought the sound was coming from, her eyes completely useless in the black. She froze and listened carefully, brow furrowing when she didn't hear anything else. She listened to her heart, counting the racing beats as she waited for something to attack her, but nothing happened.

After a minute she started moving forward, free hand moving in front of her as she tried to aim herself back towards the Sixer camp. It was a stupid idea to wander alone in the dark, but she didn't have a way to call for help, and being a sitting duck wasn't her idea of a brilliant plan either. Climbing a tree was an option, but trying to find handholds in the dark was going to be difficult and making sure the tree even had an acceptable place for her to camp for the night was impossible. Her best option was the fifteen minute hike back to Mira's place. It'd be humiliating to admit she'd dropped her torch, but it'd be worse to be dead.

She figured she was halfway back when she heard the faintest of sounds again, a leaf being brushed aside. She raised her gun, hesitating to pick a direction this time. It cost her as the weapon was knocked from her hand. She let out a muffled scream, but it didn't do much good as her silent attacker slammed a hand over her mouth and knocked her to the ground.

She was pinned beneath someone between the immense roots of a tree. It was a slight relief that the person was a person and not a slasher, but judging by the weight of said person, it wasn't exactly Leah Marcos.

She started to struggle, trying to throw the person off or make a noise around the hand that was covering her mouth. At first her panic kept her from noticing anything other than the person's silence, but when the best moves she'd learned from Taylor failed she tried to calm herself enough to take stock of her situation.

The first thing she noticed was the rough spun texture of the clothing her assailant was wearing, definitely a Sixer. The next thing she noticed, as she took a deep breath, was a familiar set of smells. Sweat, bow oil and leather mixed with something distinctly male. She frowned under his hand and shoved at the hard chest that was pressed against hers, his name muffled by his own fingers. That's when he finally gave up his silence, chuckling down at her. The sound practically rang in her ears as the vibrations shivered through her chest, lighting an angry fire within her. She shoved again and this time he conceded, leaning back some to let her up. She pressed herself back into the juncture of the roots, the bark scrapping at her skin through her shirt. She could still feel him smirking at her in the dark as sure as a touch. Her fingertips dragged up the tree as she slid up it to stand, listening for any sound of movement from the dark. She heard the subtlest of shifts as he moved towards her.

She couldn't see him, but she could feel him. The heat of his body as he stood barely an inch from her, the burning gusts on her face as he breathed, the brush of his fingertips on her cheeks as he found her face again with his hand, the callous of his thumb as he ran it along her bottom lip, making her shudder, before he kissed her. She was too stunned by his actions to protest.

His lips were softer than she imagined they would be when they gently brushed against hers for the first time. He pulled back for a moment, trying to judge her reaction. When she didn't scream, yell or smack him he took it as permission to continue, noses brushing this time before he pressed his lips to hers more firmly, leaning into her. His fingers skimmed around to the back of her neck, thumb ghosting over her pulse as it picked up. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she released a small sigh.

He tasted like sin, was all she could think as he plundered her mouth. She clutched at his shirt when he tugged at her lip with his teeth, nails digging into the rough fabric and the skin beneath. It made him let out a low moan as his other hand moved from the tree to the small of her back, moving the fabric aside so he could slid his hand up her spine, pressing them together firmly as he kissed her hard.

She let a breathy groan escape as she ran her hands up his neck and behind his head. His hair was too short to get a grip on so she dragged her nails down his scalp and behind his ears causing him to break away from her, breathing ragged as he buried his face in her neck, stubble scraping her skin decadently. She grinned in the dark, doing it again and this time he bit at her neck, making her hiss, blood starting to pound low in her body.

She went to do it once more and he quickly grabbed her hands, moving them to what he must have deemed a safer location at his sides, but as he leaned in to kiss her again she ran her hands up under his vest. She could feel the wonderful contours of his stomach under her hands, and as much as she wanted to smooth her hands upwards the enticing scrape of hair against her palms was leading her downward. Obviously on to her, he grabbed her right thigh and hiked it around his hip, effectively trapping her hands between them.

She thought about pouting but he trailed his tongue down the shell of her ear and she forgot what she was upset about. Extracting her hands she ran them up his back instead, the light sweat there making it a smooth glide. She reveled in the play of muscle whenever he adjusted his stance. She was happily exploring when she felt him smirk against her neck before he sucked hard at her pulse point. She raked her nails down his back in response, letting out a harsh sound when he immediately bucked against her, teeth digging in.

She could feel his stubble like sandpaper against her suddenly hyper-sensitive skin as he trailed his lips down to her shoulder. One of his hands slid up to cup her breast, thumb brushing over her through her shirt, the other at the crook of her knee to keep her in place as he ground against her. She felt a drop of sweat start down between her breasts. Her skin felt like it was on fire and the sound he was making, somewhere between a groan and a growl, was rumbling through both their chests and shooting sensations like lightning straight to her groin.

She was panting now and wishing there were less clothes between them. It was starting to occur to her that she was very close to ending things without him removing a single article of her clothing. It'd be damned embarrassing if it didn't feel so good.

He seemed to take this as a sign to move things along as he finally slipped a hand into her shorts, two fingers entering her as his thumb pressed down hard, twisting her nipple with his other hand and nipping at her pulse one last time. She cried out in the smothering darkness, her hands spasming uselessly against his skin as she came in his arms.

He pressed soft kisses against her forehead, cheeks and lips until she stopped quivering, then lowered her gently to sit. She felt him reach for something, heard the strike a flint, blinding her as a torch flared to life. She blinked the glare from her eyes, and when she glanced up again he was gone. She looked around as she stumbled to her feet, but there was no sign of him.

The only evidence she had of her encounter was the deep purple mark on the side of her neck, the jello feeling in her legs and the ridiculous urge to blush the next day when anyone asked what she'd done the night before.

He never said a word, but from then on she could always sense his presence.


End file.
